


Vellum

by The Missus (schwarmerei1)



Series: The First Series [2]
Category: E.R.
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-20
Updated: 2012-10-20
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schwarmerei1/pseuds/The%20Missus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kerry carries out her plan<br/>Spoilers: Up to 7.16 “Witch Hunt”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vellum

Kerry rose to leave, taking all that Kim had told her.  She wanted some privacy to replay her time with Kim, to take a moment to process all she’d learned.  She picked up her crutch and walked the twelve steps from Kim’s small office couch to the door, freezing after six, when Kim reached up and took her hand.  Kim held Kerry’s hand between hers, as if astonished by its warmth and softness.  She ran her fingertips against the feathery down on Kerry’s forearm, marveling.  She smoothed the tiny redgold hairs back into their original pattern.  Kerry turned to look at her, but Kim’s head was bowed.  She brought Kerry’s hand to her mouth and softly kissed the palm, folding Kerry’s fingers over the spot as if to protect her mark.  Kerry did not know the right thing to do, but for once, finally, she understood something crucial, and chose to do nothing.  

Kim released her small hand but did not look up at Kerry, who blessed her lowered head with a warm open palm, pressing softly downward to be certain Kim knew she had touched her with deliberate care.  She took those remaining six steps and closed the door to Kim’s office quietly.  Kim was still inside, and Kerry was still walking away, yet both of them knew that everything between them had shifted.  

__________

Kerry claimed an unused conference room and locked the door.  The breath ran out of her as she sat down.  Her Kim.  Her Kim had been young, been hurt, was mortal.  Kim was like her; she might be like Kim.  She could be like Kim.  Her palm felt cool where Kim had kissed her, and Kerry traced her other fingers over the area lovingly.  Kim had kissed her.  She still loved her even though Kerry had caused her pain.  Kerry had never known that sensation before, and it surprised her.  

Kerry put her elbows on the table and held her own head firmly.  She analyzed the few things she knew to be true.  Kim had said she had forgiven her, Kim had shown that she still loved her, and she had told Kerry exactly where she could not allow her. That meant... that meant that everywhere that Kim was _not_ hurting was somewhere Kerry _could_ be.  The simplicity and magnitude of her realization stunned her.  Of course, she murmured to her battered heart, oh, of course.  She felt her shame ease for the first time since that horrid day, and her hand-cowled eyes glinted with resolve.

___________

Kim had nearly wept when she felt Kerry’s hand on her head.  She had longed beyond belief for the slightest offering of comfort from her lover on the day of her suspension, and ever since, for that matter.  Telling her story had exhausted her resources, and her kiss had been spontaneous: innocent and true.  She had meant what she’d said, that she couldn’t bear to have Kerry hurt her again, and she had no intention of risking that soon.  ‘But honestly, Legaspi, you know you will eventually,’ Kim reminded herself.  As though it would hurt any less if it came later.  She sighed.

She had been deeply impressed by Kerry’s silence, her restraint, her empathy.  She had originally been drawn to Kerry because of the way she handled her patients.  They believed her, trusted that she could make everything right again.  When she spoke to a woman or child in pain, even if it was in a crowded hallway, Dr. Weaver was the only person her patients were aware of, as long as she was at their side, and she didn’t often fail to deserve that.  

Kim had felt that way in their lovemaking, too.  She had even come to rely on that feeling being there for her.  That Kerry could take her there effortlessly was one of several reasons that Kim was perpetually ready for her sexually.  Where Kim had missed that sensation sorely was in their life together outside her apartment, where she had never been much of a component in Kerry’s attention, let alone the focus of it.  Today, though... today she had been.  Kerry had listened, and Kim _knew_ she had heard her, knew she was sitting somewhere in semidarkness, mulling over every bit of new information.  Kim knew that Kerry loved her mightily, and in the safety of her own darkened office she let that knowledge seep over the raw edges of her distrust, let it warm the cold places of her hurt and shame and anger.  She missed her so much.  

__________

A few weeks later, when Kim got back from a late morning run, the yellow ‘Sorry we missed you’ sticker on Kim’s front door sent her trudging over two short hedges to #309.  “Thanks for keeping it for me... Oh!  I mean, keeping _them_ for me,” a newly happy Kim said to Mr. Halverson, as she realized that the box he handed over to her was from a downtown florist.  He looked at her with affection, and wished her a lovely afternoon as she trotted back to her door.  She turned over her shoulder to thank him again, and the retired army colonel blushed at her beauty.  She dipped her head in pleasure.  ‘If he had half an idea...’ she thought, wryly.

She threw down her bag and briefcase and opened the box on the dining room table.  The perfume of the flowers was heady and strong enough to pass easily through the waxed cardboard.  Of course they were from Kerry, of course they were... but her fingers trembled and she bit through the tape rather than look for her shears.  She lifted the box’s lid and was utterly surprised to find a mosaic sea of color filling the lower half.  It was filled to the rim with a mixture of flower petals, all different shapes and colors, blended into a fragrant salad of sorts.  Kerry had left the lily anthers in the mix, and their rusty orange pollen was sprinkled everywhere, lending a dry, cumin-like scent that grounded the floral notes when Kim leant over the box and inhaled.  It was beautiful.  No stems.  No centers.  Kerry must have bought a few of every flower in the store and plucked them all into this box.  Kim couldn’t imagine her requesting, or explaining, this at the counter.  She ruffled through them, looking for a card.  Kerry had forgone the florist’s 2 by 3, opting instead for her own thick antique vellum stationery that Kim had loved to touch.

‘Kim.  

Aren’t they beautiful?  I wish I knew how to put them back together.  They can’t last long apart, lovely as they are.  Look how they’re curved to fit together.  How thin their edges are.  How well their fragrances blend.  Crush them a little; you’ll see.  

I do so love you.  Please, may I see you tomorrow night?  

Kerry.’

‘Tomorrow, hell,’ Kim thought.

__________

She parked a good block and a half from Kerry’s front door.  She set to her work, grinning like a fool.  ‘In love, much?’ she asked herself... happy again to be playing and joyful.  She rang Kerry’s doorbell and sprinted back to the car, hoping that Kerry would be a step or two from her crutch, to give Kim the few moments she needed to turn the corner.  

__________

Kerry came to the door, heart pounding.  The flowers should have been delivered hours ago, yet no call from Kim.  Had she rushed?  Been too forward?  And then the doorbell... could it possibly?  She had been washing her breakfast dishes meditatively, letting the hot water soak the change-of-season aches from her fingers.  Hurriedly, she dried her hands, ran her fingers through her hair just in case, found her crutch, and went to the door, opening it wide without even asking.   

 Her landing was strewn with the flower petals she had spent the morning plucking at Delmonico’s.  A tempting trail of sprinkled colors kaleidoscoped down her steps and onto the sidewalk in front of her brownstone.  Charmed, she reached in for her keys, closed the door, and followed it down, looking for Kim, who was nowhere to be found.   At the junction of the steps and sidewalk, a folded card stood up from the sprinkling of petals around it.  Kerry leaned over and picked it up, recognizing the big, blocky lettering Kim used when she was in a good mood.  ‘Yes, but...’ it said.  ‘Yes’ was fast becoming Kerry’s favorite word.  

She walked along the trail, noticing everywhere that Kim had stopped and strewn flags of color over the grey world of Kerry’s sidewalk.  Kim had circled a dandelion on the curb strip two houses down, making the weed an artistic center.  She’d laid petals down with a heavy hand to cover the lint-clotted grass under the laundry window a few buildings down, covering neglect with vibrant care.  A straggly tulip in a neighbor’s dog-abused yard had a starburst of celebratory rays drawn around it.  Kerry swore she could smell every kind of flower she’d chosen in the breeze that ruffled the petals she walked along, following.  She saw another card folded where the sidewalk turned at the end of the block.  ‘I don’t want...’ this one read.  There was still a few feet of petaled trail ahead of her.  Kerry bit her lip, unsure how to reconcile.  

“...to wait another second,” Kim said, coming up behind her.  Kerry stood abruptly, and Kim swept her up in a warm embrace.  Kerry’s heart leapt.  She smiled her famous one-sided smile, shaking her head into Kim’s shoulder.  She knew it wasn’t going to be this easy, not really, but she was thrilled to play with Kim in this way, and grateful Kim had taken her meaning just as she had intended to give it.  Kim still wanted her, was still willing, apparently even eager, to flirt and court her.  Kerry relaxed.  

“My car is right there,” Kim said to the top of Kerry’s head.  “Let’s go?”  “You got it,” Kerry replied.  She stood and looked back toward her house, at the path Kim had laid, knowing Kerry would find her.  It had never occurred to Kim that Kerry wouldn’t come to her, that Kerry wouldn’t know how to find her.  Kerry wanted it to stay that way forever.  She promised herself that Kim would never wonder that again.

“Did you leave anything on, or running?” Kim asked her, half-smiling.  Kerry shook her head.  “Well, then, how about I take you home for lunch?”  Kerry split a grin at the double entendre, and tucked her head as she nodded yes.  She reached up to kiss Kim, the first time in daylight, the first time outside.  Kim was delighted, each moment surer she was doing the right thing.

Kerry got into the passenger side, as she had on dozens of other days in the beginning of their couplehood.  Kim had left petals on the floor of her side, just a few, by way of welcome.  Kerry was glad she had insisted on filling the box to the brim; the florist had thought she was mad when he saw what she was doing.  Luckily, even self-righteous florists who had never seen the inside of an emergency room knew not to disturb Kerry Weaver when she had glanced over the rims of her glasses at him.  She stowed her crutch and looked over at Kim.  Windblown, luminous Kim, who smelled strongly of the petals she had scattered, who still had tiny flecks of color in random spots through her hair.  Her wild, sun-drenched hair.  Kerry felt such a surge of desire to card through that hair, to clean and free it; she was grateful she was already sitting down.

Kim caught the change in her eyes and responded, as she always did.  She felt her pulse surge and willed herself to come under control.  She didn’t intend on taking Kerry home to bed.  ‘That might be _nice_ , though,’ her body suggested to her brain.  Her brain grumped back that it was out of the question.  Her body politely pretended to care.

Kim put the car in gear and took off for home.  

_____________

They came into Kim’s living room as though they had been coming home together for years.  Kerry’s raincoat was still in the closet, Kerry’s mug was still in the bathroom, albeit on the shelf behind the door, with her toothbrush in it, and not on the counter where it would have hurt Kim to see it.  But she had kept these things out, in optimism.  Kerry warmed to the thought.  

She had spent weeks nudging back into Kim’s life, popping into her office to drop off files that Randi would have been happy to deliver, leaving notes for Kim asking her to join her for impromptu things like movies or ice cream out... she was courting her all over again, but consciously this time.  She shied away from heavy things and kept her grief over their separation closer to her core, since it really was hers to deal with.  She concentrated to keeping herself in front of Kim’s path, never going a full day without at least leaving her a warm greeting on the answering machine.  She was never intrusive enough so that Kim had to push her away, but she was never really gone, either.  She was proud of herself, and happy with the results: Kim was warm to her, friendly, and lately, touchy with her.  Kerry was certain she could win her back if she could just keep things simmering along.  Every now and then, Kim would slip, stepping closer to her on an escalator so sneak a sniff of Kerry’s hair, brushing her rear against Kerry ‘accidentally’ in the hallway, asking for her attention with a hand on her arm.  Kerry thrilled with joy every time these things happened, and that joy encouraged her slow and steady pacing.  ‘Consistency, Weaver, security,’ she repeated to herself when she felt panic about Kim’s state of mind.  She _did_ know what Kim needed, and one way or another she was going to make sure Kim got it.

As always, having a task and a plan, albeit an open-ended one, calmed Kerry, and helped her gradually move her sorrows off to the side a bit.  Kim’s forgiveness that day in her office had been the crucial step for Kerry.  She had worked hard to let go of her shame about what she had done, and she had made progress.  Her smoldering desire for Kim had been impossible to tame, however, and she had no idea how to drive that down deeper.  The ache in her was becoming more familiar, though, and less acute of a pain.  She had no illusions that Kim would be willing to take back up with her anytime soon, and she truly was willing to wait.  Kerry, having been briefly happy, wanted nothing more than to have that happiness again.  And today was looking a whole lot like that.  
  



End file.
